


The Price Of Destiny

by inexprymable



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F, Set pre season 1, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 11:49:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6050530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inexprymable/pseuds/inexprymable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vera accidentally receives something that shouldn't get in her hands. Is she going to keep secrets from her employer to finally find her happiness? Or is she going to do the right thing and tell her everything? Where's Joan's place in all of this nonsense?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Price Of Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to @the_researcher for being my Beta! ♥

Vera was walking through the halls of Wentworth Prison. Her shift was coming to an end. She headed to the staff room and opened her locker. She didn't have the desire to return home to her mother. She preferred to read the mail that was placed on top of the files. She looked around the room to make sure she was alone and sat on the small sofa to open the letter. The other envelopes contained advertisements.

The letter was handwritten, neat and nice to the eye. Vera gasped as she started reading.

"Governor Jackson..."

Vera paused. She didn't bother with reading the name on the envelope. She opened her boss's mail. Her new boss's mail. She couldn't let the woman know. She didn't want to be on her bad side.

She began wondering what to do to cover the evidence that would prove she was the one to open the letter but didn't come up with anything. She realised that she had fucked up big time.

After spending a moment contemplating, Vera looked at the sheet of paper before her eyes. It was definitely a reply to a Mrs Jackson's letter. It was strictly professional. The person who wrote that seemed to take their job seriously. Vera found their view on corrections interesting; they were similar to Mrs Jackson's, but more rigorous. 

The signature was a surprise to Vera. She was certain it was written by a man. She couldn't be more wrong. It said "Joan Ferguson." The deputy governor didn't know what to do. Should she throw it away? Should she tell everything to Governor Jackson?

She heard footsteps from the hall and hid the letter in the inner pocket of her blazer. She felt her heart pounding faster. She collected her things. She exited the prison and headed home, going to the shop on her way. What she had done that day was now calling for some alcoholic aid. 

Vera ate the dinner with her mother. She hoped Rita would go to sleep soon, so she could do something about the letter. She carried a bottle of white wine and a glass to her bedroom. She took the envelope out of her uniform jacket and placed it on the counter beside her bed. She emptied the bottle, which was an unusual action for her. She drank only when she was sick of her mother's grumbling or when she had had a stressful day at work. She rarely drank the entire bottle at once. She lay on the bed, wondering, "What does this Joan Ferguson look like? What is she like?"  She had many questions and no answers. She quickly got up from the bed and felt dizzy. She supported herself, leaning on the mattress. She got her composure back and took wobbly steps to the desk. She sat down for a while. She reached for a sheet of paper and started writing.

She stared at the letters and stopped in her tracks. What was she doing? She dropped the pen to let it fall to the floor. She couldn't just write to someone, who didn't know about her existence. What would she think of her? She certainly wouldn't get a reply. Maybe Miss Ferguson would tell Governor Jackson about it, and Vera would get in trouble.  She got on her feet and paced around the room. She was lucky not to fall on the bedside table.

She took a sheet of paper from the desk and sat down on the bed. She was about to continue writing the letter but her eyelids closed and she fell back on the pillows with a puff.

The next day at Wentworth felt incredibly long. Her head was pounding and she was nauseated. Focusing on doing her job wasn't easy, but as a deputy governor, she had many duties. She walked into the yard to check on the inmates, whose lives - despite being in prison - seemed more interesting than her own. On the other side of the yard, a young inmate was smoking a cigarette and smiling. Vera held her blank expression and noticed the inmate's face was abnormally relaxed. Her instincts woke as she walked toward the girl and smelt cigarette smoke with a hint of something sweet. The shape of the cigarette was irregular.

"What is it?" She asked, almost whispering. She tried to be kind to the prisoners when she could, but she couldn't let them do such things. The girl widened her eyes. There were drops of sweat on her forehead. "Extinguish it and give it to me, now." She demanded. Vera didn't like to make a big fuss out of things. She told the girl to return to her unit and hid a half of the joint in her pocket.

Vera looked around and noticed that most of the women were smoking. Cigarettes, of course. She had seen it everyday. She was constantly asking herself, what was in these cigarettes to make all of them sacrifice their health and looks for a smoke? She'd never had a cigarette in her mouth, and didn't intend to.  She found it fascinating that other women were easily drawn to the ones who smoked. Her thoughts stopped at the sight of an inmate blowing smoke into another inmate's mouth. To her surprise, she didn't think it was disgusting.

Every evening after she came home, Vera went to her room to glare at the two words starting the letter. She tried to think of the reply. She wasn't the best person when it came to interactions. She came to realize the reason behind writing a letter to that woman. She simply wanted to have a friend, someone she could talk to. She tore the sheet in half and threw it on the floor. She didn't bother with carrying it to the bin on the other side of the room.

 


End file.
